


The Thing That Ate Chicago

by BradyGirl_12



Category: Public Enemies (2009)
Genre: Cannibalism, Challenge Response, Community: Guns_Fedoras Public Enemies Challenges, Established Relationship, F/M, Gore, Halloween, Het, Het and Slash, Holidays, Horror, M/M, Male Slash, Minor Character Death, Monsters, Mummies, Mutilation, Mystery, Science Fiction, Slash, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradyGirl_12/pseuds/BradyGirl_12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Halloween, the Bankers Building becomes a literal House of Horrors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: None  
> Summary: On Halloween, the Bankers Building becomes a literal House of Horrors.  
> Original LJ Dates Of Completion: October 8-15, 2011  
> Original LJ Dates Of Posting: October 17-November 3, 2011  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.  
> Original LJ Word Count: 10,237  
> Feedback welcome and appreciated.  
> Author’s Notes: Written for my 2011 Guns_Fedoras Public Enemies Fic/Art Halloween Challenge. Option 1: _(Elements of Halloween used set in or around Halloween: Pumpkins/Jack O’Lanterns, Black-And-Orange, Monsters)._  
>  All chapters can be found here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel is given some highly disturbing news.

_Something wicked_  
_This way comes,_  
_In breath and blood and bone,_  
_Unless one is careful,_  
_Your soul will be owned._

****

**Roy Bradberry**  
**"Something Wicked This Way Comes"**  
**1962 C.E.**

Mel strode briskly down the street, glad for his warm, black greatcoat as the autumn air gusted from Lake Michigan. His step was jaunty as he entered the Bankers Building on this cold, crisp morning of Halloween, looking forward to tonight. He would meet Johnny and they would celebrate the holiday, Mel excited to be with his lover and to have some fun.

He entered the grand old building’s lobby, stopping at the newsstand to purchase a paper as people traversed the lobby. Two businessmen stood a few feet away as they talked, the older of the two saying, “It was a weird light, I tell you! It just zoomed right through the sky.”

“Shooting star,” drawled the younger man.

“Weird, though.”

“You can see some strange things at night, all right.”

Mel picked up a copy of _The Chicago Tribune_ , scanning the front-page stories: a murder in Grant Park, a tornado in Kansas, the latest scandal at City Hall, and a low-scale earthquake in northern Cook County.

“’Mornin’, Mr. Purvis.”

“Good mornin’, Charlie.” He tapped the paper. “An earthquake?” 

Charlie laughed. “That’s old news. The tremors were last week, but that’s a follow-up story. Some scientist from MIT said it’s weird that it only happened in a small area of the county. Looks like he’s comin’ out here for a look-see.”

“Oh, well, science can be odd.” Mel handed the portly man coins for the paper. “Happy Halloween, Charlie.”

Charlie laughed. “Same to you, Mr. Purvis.” 

Mel walked by the small lunch counter that sold sandwiches, pastries, coffee and soda, nodding to the white-haired elderly gentleman behind the counter. Ed White smiled a good morning, leisurely making fresh sandwiches and selling hot coffee to the businessmen, lawyers and office staff who populated the nineteen floors of the Bankers Building. The Dillinger Squad’s agents were also customers, and inevitably some young agent would make a mad dash for the elevator with a coffee cup in hand.

Mel took the elevator to the nineteenth floor and entered the office marked The Dillinger Squad. He said hello to Doris and Carter and a few younger agents. He went into his office and hung up his greatcoat and fedora, ready to tackle the day’s work.

Doris had brought in a pumpkin for her desk, and Johnny had given him one for his desk after a weekend spent in the countryside. He smiled as he caressed the round pumpkin.

He sat down and sifted through his stack of file folders, glad for a break when an hour later, Chief Patrick O’Reilly showed up with a problem. Mel welcomed the broad-shouldered redhead and they shook hands. He was on a first-name basis with the man, finding him extremely amenable and competent.

“How can I help you, Pat?”

Patrick produced a thick file folder. “I’d like you to distribute these reports to your men, Mel.”

“What’s it about?”

Patrick stayed standing, his ruddy face grim. “There’s been a series of disappearances for the past week in northern Cook County.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but…”

“I know it’s not your jurisdiction, but your men go around the countryside pursuing John Dillinger and his ilk, so they might see something.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to inform them to keep their eyes open.”

“More than that, Mr. Purvis.” Patrick held out a photograph. “We’ve found three bodies so far, though we don’t know if they’re the missing folks.”

Puzzled, Mel took the photograph and promptly felt ill as he looked at it. “All three were…like this?” 

Patrick nodded. “You can see why it’s so difficult to identify them.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t an animal who did this?” Mel handed the photograph back, glad to get rid of it.

“We thought of that, but the method of pulling the flesh from the bone is too methodical. While the killer gnawed on the bones, there was a pattern that indicates human intelligence, not animal.”

The thought of cannibalism sickened Mel. “Three bodies?” He sat down so that his legs would not betray him. “All found in the same place?”

“All in the woods, but several miles apart. That could indicate more than one killer, but it’s more likely one person on the move.”

“How many people are missing?”

“Six so far.”

“Any pattern?” 

Patrick shook his head. “Three men, two women, and one teenage boy. The only link is they were all citizens of small towns. The first one to disappear, Elijah Landis, was a farmer who lived on the outskirts of Clairville, a tiny hamlet in the north.”

“I hope that corpse is not him.”

Patrick nodded. “Still, it’ll be some poor soul.”

“How did they die?”

“Blood loss.” Patrick grimaced. “After their bones were broken. One victim had her throat torn out, while others had their limbs torn off.”

“This…killer…is a monster.”

“I’m afraid I must agree.” Patrick shook Mel’s hand again. “Thanks again, Mel. Better warn your men as they travel the Illinois countryside.”

Mel nodded, still feeling sick as Patrick left the office.

The phone rang and he jumped. Picking up the handset, he asked, “Yes, Doris?”

_“It’s Jack, sir.”_

“Put him through.” He desperately needed to hear Johnny’s voice right now.

“Hey, Sunshine.” Johnny’s voice was cheerful. _“Happy Halloween!”_

Mel chuckled. “Happy Halloween, darlin’.”

_“So, got your costume ready?”_

“I do, and, no, I’m not going to tell you what it is.”

Johnny laughed. _“You know me well, sugar.”_

“I hope to know you even better by evening’s end.”

_“I’m counting on it.”_

“Yes, well, I’d better get back to work.”

_“Mel?”_

“Hmm?”

_“You all right?”_

“I…I received some disturbing news just a short while ago.”

_“From home?”_

“No, a murder case.”

_“Care to share?”_ Johnny asked gently.

“I would rather not.” Mel’s hand gripped the phone painfully. “But then, you and your men are often on the back roads. There’s been disappearances and the discovery of bodies in the countryside for the past week, in the northern section of Cook County. The bodies are quite…mutilated.”

Mel could hear the intake of breath on the other end of the line. _“I’m sorry, Mel.”_

“Me, too. Just be careful, Johnny.”

_“I will. You, too.”_

“I love you.”

He could hear his lover’s smile. _“I love you, too, Sunshine. See ya tonight.”_

After hanging up, Mel went out to the squadroom, distributing the descriptions of the missing people and showed the photograph of the body. Faces went white, and Charles quickly looked at Doris, but despite her paleness, she appeared steadier than some of the younger agents. 

“Be extremely careful when you are out there,” Mel said. He gave them all the information he had, then returned to his office.

& & & & & &

“Pretty gruesome,” Charles said as he came over to Doris’ desk.

“Pretty awful.”

Charles had been joshing with fellow ex-Ranger Clarence when Mel had held the impromptu meeting, asking where their erstwhile partner Jerry was. Clarence and Jerry shared an apartment together.

“He’ll be along,” Clarence said, resuming their conversation.

“How would you know, out with Vonda all night?”

Clarence grinned wolfishly. “Jerry had a good night’s sleep. He’ll be here.” The phone rang. “Hurt here. Yeah? Let’s have the address. Okay,” he said as he scribbled it down. “Thanks.” After hanging up he said, “Got a hot tip. Nelson’s been sighted in East Chicago.”

Sam was carrying a stack of files. “Clarence, you and Hugh and I will check that tip out. And for god’s sakes, let’s be careful!” He went to Mel’s office to tell him where they were going.

A few minutes later, Clarence told Charles as he followed Sam and Hugh out the door, “Tell Jerry he owes me five bucks. The Bears won last week.”

Charles laughed but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. His hunter’s instinct was whispering to him that something wicked this way was coming.


	2. A Grim Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grim discovery is made.

_“So, it begins.”_

  


**Alan Bogart**  
**“The Moldavian Falcon”**  
**Warner Brothers Pictures**  
**1933 C.E.**

Mel decided to go downstairs for coffee and pastry. He was too unsettled after his meeting with Patrick O’Reilly. He approved Sam’s field trip, warning him to be careful, and rode down in the elevator with Sam, Clarence and Hugh.

“Good luck, gentlemen.”

Sam waved and the trio headed for his car.

Mel had sincerely meant good luck. He had no compunctions about capturing Baby Face Nelson. It was John Dillinger whom he wanted free. He smiled at Ed, who served up his coffee and a raspberry Danish.

“One more coffee, please. Cream and sugar.”

“For that pretty secretary of yours?”

“Exactly.”

Ed chuckled. “Comin’ right up.”

Mel watched the flurry of people coming and going, the mail clerk rattling his cart toward the elevators to make his daily rounds. A middle-aged man in a sharp suit and fedora sat in one of the chairs circled around a coffee table reading a newspaper. The floors shone and the sandstone pillars were equally shiny, a counterpoint to the dark wood of the walls. Ben the janitor was hard at work keeping those floors shiny. It was mostly quiet, very little conversation going on except that a man was chatting with Charlie at the newsstand.

“Yeah, that was some tremor last week.”

Charlie handed him a paper. “Weird, huh?”

“Yeah, this isn’t Mexico, for cryin’ out loud!” 

Mel took a bite of his Danish, pausing as the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He looked around quickly. The feeling of being watched was strong.

He scanned the lobby but everyone was going about their business, even the man with the newspaper too absorbed to pay him attention.

“Here’s your coffee with cream ‘n’ sugar,” said Ed cheerfully.

“Thanks, Ed.” I must be spooked after that meeting with Patrick.

Mel took the two coffee cups and pastry upstairs. Doris smiled as she accepted her coffee. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Mel looked over at Charles. “Where’s Jerry?”

“I don’t know. I called his apartment but no answer.”

“Keep on it.”

Charles nodded, winking at Doris, who was looking pretty in an orange silk dress with black trim. She had drawn a smiling face on her pumpkin with a black Magic Marker and giggled at the cowboy’s flirtation.

Mel returned to his office, shaking his head with a smile and managed to finish his pastry just before the phone rang.

_“Director Hoover, sir.”_

“Put him through.”

_“Melvin, good morning! What have you got for me?”_

“Um, nothing much, sir. We did get a tip on Nelson this morning. Sam and a few men are checking it out.”

_“Hmph. I’m here in Pittsburgh. I have to attend a Carnegie Institute dinner tonight but should be in Chicago tomorrow.”_

“Yes, sir.”

_Good, I’ll have tonight free._

_“Keep up the good work, Melvin.”_ Hoover’s voice lowered to a purr. _“I’ll see you tomorrow.”_

Resigned to dodging grabby hands all day tomorrow, Mel said, “Very good, Director. See you then.” He hung up.

A knock on the door brought his head up. He saw a worried Head of Building Security, Mike Cameron, standing there.

“Yes, Mike?” 

Mike was a broad-shouldered man about six feet tall and with bright blue eyes in a craggy face. He wore a typical security guard’s uniform, his big hand tight on the doorknob. He looked ill, what Johnny would say was ‘green at the gills’.

“You need to see something one of my men found, sir.”

Puzzled but alerted by Mike’s grave tone, Mel rose from his chair and followed the other man into the squadroom. “Charles, would you come with us, please?”

Charles left his desk and joined Mel. He did not ask any questions, figuring that he would be informed when necessary. Mel appreciated the laconic cowboy’s patience.

He and Charles followed Mel into the stairwell and the lower they went, Mel’s stomach turned as a stench wafted up.

“What the hell?” Charles muttered.

A young guard was waiting on the landing, holding a handkerchief to his face. He looked as white as a sheet.

“Cal found ‘im,” Mike said.

“Him?” Mel asked faintly.

Mike nodded grimly. “Brace yourselves, gentlemen.”

Mel and Charles followed Mike around the curve of the landing, seeing bright blood spattered on the gray wall. It was still fresh.

Mel stopped dead, Charles nearly bumping into him. The Texan swore in a shaky voice.

Mel felt lightheaded as he gazed upon the remains of what once had been a human being. He looked away.

“We found this,” Cal said, holding out his hand. In the center of the second handkerchief was a bloody leather folder. Mel very carefully opened it with the tip of his finger, gasping as he saw the shiny badge and photo I.D. inside.

Charles took the handkerchief from Cal, his face ashen as he looked at the picture of his old friend and fellow agent Jerry Campbell.


	3. The Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt begins for the killer terrorizing the Bankers Building.

_Elemental,_  
_The Hunt,_  
_Man’s way_  
_Of survival._

  


**Sir Alec Morrison**  
**“Down Through The Ages”**  
**1922 C.E.**  


Mel tried to stop shaking as he sat in his office, Charles smoking furiously as he leaned against the wall. Mike and Cal sat slumped in chairs as they waited for Patrick O’Reilly and the coroner’s wagon.

There was tension out in the squadroom as people spoke in hushed tones, shaken by the ghastly expressions on the returning men’s faces. Mel declined to say anything until he had talked to Patrick.

The Police Chief arrived quickly, shutting the door behind him.

“It looks like our killer has come to the city.”

“I’m afraid so.” Mel rubbed his face with a shaking hand. “The blood was still fresh, so this happened only a few hours ago.”

Patrick nodded. “With any luck, this sicko has moved on, but I’d almost rather he hadn’t.”

“Why?” Cal asked, wiping his face with his clean handkerchief. The bloody one was set on the desk with Jerry’s badge folder.

“Because we’d have no clue where he’d strike next. Here we can hunt him down.” 

“Should we evacuate?” Mike asked when a commotion sounded in the squadroom. Patrick opened the door and a shirt, wild-eyed man in a rumpled suit yelled, “Cameron! I found a mangled body!”

“I thought my men had the stairwell roped off,” Patrick muttered.

The civilian grabbed Patrick’s arms. “It was awful! The flesh was torn off the bones! There was no face left!”

Charles quickly shut the door on the shocked and alarmed faces of the agents out in the squadroom.

“Yes, I know, Vinnie. We’ve got it under control in the stairwell.”

“Stairwell? This body was in the tenth floor men’s room!”

“What?” Mel asked, standing up, the other men shooting to their feet, too.

“Yeah!” Vinnie still clung to the Police Chief. “And…and…the Mummy did it!”

“What?” Patrick scoffed.

“Yeah, you know! Like Boris Karloff in the movie. The thing shuffled and moaned and his bandages were all bloody. Smelled like an open grave.”

The men exchanged incredulous looks. _“Shock,”_ Mike mouthed to Mel. He sat Vinnie down. “I’ll get my men on this.”

“Pat.” The policeman turned to Mel. “We have to evacuate the building.”

Patrick nodded. “I’ll have my men go floor-to-floor.”

“I’ll prepare my men to join you.”

Everyone left the office, the security guards going with Patrick and Charles stood by Mel’s side as he explained the situation, Doris soundlessly putting a hand to her mouth at the news of Jerry’s death, quickly looking at a stone-faced Charles. Mel did not elaborate on the condition of Jerry’s body, but everyone had seen the photograph of the body found in the north woods.

“We’re going to search for the killer as well as notify everyone to evacuate.” Mel flexed his hand. “Pair up and bring your guns. Carter, assign the floors.”

Carter nodded as Mel went back into his office. He opened his desk drawer and took out his revolver, checking to see if it was loaded. He grabbed a box of ammunition and went back out to the squadroom. Charles was gripping a Winchester and Doc White was checking several guns, one a rifle.

Charles walked over to Doris’ desk. “You’re going home.”

“I…”

“No arguments.”

“I agree,” said Mel. “Charles, will you escort Doris out, please? And take your partner.” Mel looked at his men. “No one goes anywhere alone.” Everyone nodded. “All right, let’s go. Carter, with me.” 

The agents of the Dillinger Squad filed out, grim but resolute. One of their own had been brutally murdered along with a civilian. This killer was far more dangerous than bank robbers.

Mel and Carter took the elevator to the tenth floor. Mel was reluctant to send his men in harm’s way, but it could not be helped. He had deliberately chosen the most dangerous floor and would have gone alone, but Carter would not have allowed it.

They found the men’s room, two patrolmen standing guard outside it. Mel asked, “Is Chief O’Reilly here?”

The gray-haired officer nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Mel and Carter entered the bathroom, Carter startled at the stench. Mel surveyed the blood-spattered walls and floor, Patrick and a plainclothes detective squatting as they studied the floor. The detective pulled out a plastic baggie and used a paper towel to pick up a piece of bone.

“My men are on the hunt,” Mel said.

“Good.” Patrick stood with a creak of joints. “We can work together. I’ve got more men coming.”

“Carter and I will do a systemic search of this floor.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

Mel and Carter left the bathroom. “Whew,” Carter said, looking a little green at the gills.

“Not pleasant. The blood and torn flesh make for an unappealing olfactory mix.”

“I wonder. Is that smell only blood and bone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve had experience with dead bodies before. I worked in the Brooklyn Police Department for a few years before joining the Bureau. I don’t remember the smell as quite like that.”

Mel frowned. “I doubt you’ve seen murder victims like this.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Mel opened the door of _Morris, Schonstein & Associates_, and Carter followed him inside.

& & & & & &

William Rorer was a practical man. He had seen the picture of the murder victim in the northeast corner of the county. Jerry Campbell had ended up the same way but he had no intention of becoming the latest victim.

_Besides, Fat Harold will probably be the first to go. He’s a bigger target._

Harold Reinecke was sweating profusely, his fingers hovering over his gun’s trigger. He mopped his pasty face with a crumpled handkerchief.

“Damn, fuckin’ weird, huh?” Reinecke asked.

“Pretty bizarre.” Rorer frowned. “Sounds like someone didn’t get the word to clear out.”

”Huh?”

Rorer pointed down the hall. “Someone’s around the corner.”

”Maybe it’s the killer!” Reinecke whispered.

Rorer doubted the killer would allow his presence to be known, but it would be wise to take precautions. He gripped his gun a little tighter.

He called out, “Hey! You should leave the building! This is the Bureau of Investigation!” The footsteps shuffled but no answer came. “Hey, I said…”

A shadow stretched out on the wall, Rorer blinking. He wondered at the head of hair on this guy. Definitely not a fashionable sort. 

“Hey, buddy…” His nose wrinkled as a stench of decay wafted toward him.

Reinecke whimpered as a howl seared Rorer’s ears. An explosion of fangs and fur hurtled toward Rorer, flesh sliced from bone as the smell of the grave enveloped him in red-tinged pain.


	4. Evacuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel and Carter urge people to evacuate as Doc and Charles hunt the killer.

_While on the hunt,  
Mind the innocent._

  


**Jordan Brewster**  
**“The Hunt”**  
**1926 C.E.**

“But, Mr. Purvis, we have work to do.”

“And there is a dangerous killer roaming around the Bankers Building, suh.”

The short, balding, bespectacled office manager stared disapprovingly at Mel. The half-dozen women busy clacking away on typewriter keys were focused on their work but Mel could see their ears perked up. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Purvis, but…”

“And I’m sorry, Mr. Macklin, but this is not a request. Police Chief Patrick O’Reilly has ordered everyone out of the building.”

Macklin frowned. “I’ll have to get in touch with the home office.”

_“Now,_ Mr. Macklin.” Mel took out his badge. “Ladies, gather your coats, hats, and purses and please leave the building.”

The women quickly obeyed, Carter advising them to say together as they exited. The oldest woman in the group nodded and took charge, herding the younger ones out of the office.

“You had best depart, Mr. Macklin. This killer had already struck more than once,” Mel said.

Still unhappy, Macklin grabbed his hat and coat and left in a huff.

“Some people are just naturally ungrateful,” Carter said with a smirk.

Mel chuckled. “We had better check the rest of the floor for more hold-outs.”

“It’s the Wolfman! The Wolfman!”

Startled, Mel and Carter ran out into the hall to see a terrified Harold Reinecke barrel into them. 

“Oof! Harold, what’s going on? Where’s Will?” asked Mel.

The portly agent babbled, “It was the Wolfman!”

“Did the killer attack you and Will?”

“The Wolfman! Claws and fangs!”

“Where?” Mel shook Reinecke.

“The…the twelfth floor.”

“Carter, take Harold back to the squadroom. Coordinate the search from there.” 

“And just where are you going?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t go up there alone!”

“And we can’t let Harold wander around alone. He’s in shock. I’ll find one of our teams and go with them.”

Slightly mollified, Carter drew Mel aside. “Mel, Rienecke said the Wolfman attacked them, and that other witness said the Mummy was roaming around! Either Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney, Jr. are in the house or…”

“…this killer has a sick sense of humor.” Mel put a hand on Carter’s shoulder. “Be careful.”

“That should be _my_ line.” Carter put his hand over Mel’s. “Come with us, Mel. I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I, but Patrick and Detective Scanlon are on the next floor up.” Mel squeezed his old friend’s shoulder. “I have no intention of letting myself get killed, Carter. I’ll be down at the squadroom shortly, but I need to inform Patrick of the latest development.”

Carter sighed and squeezed Mel’s hand. “All right. But if you get killed I’ll never speak to you again!”

Mel chuckled and released Carter, who looked at Mel almost with desperation. He turned to Rienecke and said, “Let’s go.”

After Carter and Reinecke had disappeared into the elevator, Mel wavered for a moment, wondering if he had made a mistake sending Carter away. The silence seemed almost deafening, if that made sense. His nerves crawled along his skin but he shook it off, resolutely squaring his shoulders and taking the elevator up to the eleventh floor.

& & & & & &

Doc White had no objection to his partner’s silence and occasional grunts for replies. As a fellow Texan and veteran of the roughest frontier in America for violence and lawlessness, he understood Charles Winstead’s state of mind. One of the men he had traveled with from Texas to Chicago had been brutally murdered. That required a reckoning.

He had to give someone like Dillinger credit. The man would not hesitate to shoot at police during a robbery, but it was out in the open and giving a man a chance to fight back instead of skulking around like some dirty sneak thief and viciously murdering innocent people. 

Doc stopped and held out a hand, Charles squinting at him. Doc gestured to a shadow up ahead. Someone was around the corner. 

Charles saw it, too, and nodded, hefting his shotgun. Doc carefully edged his way around the corner, stopping in shock.

“Bela _Lugosi?”_

The suave, aristocratic man clad in a black silk cape with a red lining and high collar bowed, his tuxedo impeccable. “At your service, sir,” said the thickly-accented voice.

_The Mummy and now Count Dracula? What’s with all these refugees from Universal Studios?_

“Hands up, Count.”

“Ah, but I vant to suck your blood.” Dracula smiled, white fangs gleaming as he moved so fast that Doc never had a chance to get off a shot before fangs sunk into his throat and ripped it out.

& & & & & &

Mel disembarked from the elevator, quickly looking in both directions, relieved to see that the hall was empty. The doors lining the hall were locked, so the police must have already done a sweep of this floor. He hoped that Patrick and Scanlon were still here.

He walked carefully, listening for any sounds and kept a tight grip on his gun, wishing for one of Charles’ rifles.

He froze as he heard a sound. Carefully surveying the hall, his blood ran cold as he spotted a shadow around the corner. Swallowing hard, he called out, “Show yourself!” His heart nearly pounded out of his chest as the shadow began to move.


	5. Red-And-Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The terror builds inside the Bankers Building.

_Terror creeps_  
_On silent feet,_  
_Ready to devour_  
_Our souls._

  


**Sylvan Glade**  
**“Halloween Horrors”**  
**1932 C.E.**

Doris nervously sipped her coffee. Maybe she should order tea instead. Coffee made her already-jittery nerves even more jangly, but she refused to go home. Instead she sat at the window table of _The Country Café_ directly across the street from the Bankers Building.

The sunny yellow décor and cute little ceramic chickens on each table would normally cheer her up, but this time she was far too worried. The Bankers Building was a stylish, solid Victorian building that now looked forbidding, the windows dark and keeping their secrets. And was it her imagination, or was the once-bright day growing darker? Was that a storm brewing on the horizon?

The lunchtime crowd buzzed all around her as silverware clinked and people talked loudly enough to contribute to the general hubbub. No one noticed the policemen turning away people from the Bankers Building, some arguing with the officers.

Doris sat up as she saw the coroner’s wagon return. That meant another dead body. A disgruntled businessman crossed the street, holding on tightly to his fedora as the wind blew hard. The tiny bells jingled over the door as he stomped in.

“Damned cops! He griped. “Keeping people from important appointments. I should call City Hall!”

“Whatsamatter, Ben? Got high finance on your schedule?” teased Elsa, the waitress behind the counter.

“The whole Bankers’ Building is off-limits.”

“Why, an ax murderer on the loose?” chuckled a man sitting on a stool at the counter.

“Something’s going on.”

Doris saw a group of office girls come out of the building, looking frightened. She wanted to go right over and found out what the details were, but knew the cops on the door would tell her nothing. The women crossed the street, coats flapping and hats grasped as they reached the sidewalk, coming into the café.

“Oh, it’s just awful!” wailed a young brunette, her hair escaping its bobby pins.

“Hush, Mabel,” said an older woman who looked to be in charge.

“But Mrs. Carmody, there’s a crazy killer on the loose!”

The people sitting closest to the group stopped talking and looked at Mabel.

Elsa demanded, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“There’s a crazed killer on the loose in the Bankers Building!”

A hush fell over the café and Doris desperately wished that her companion of a half hour ago was still here, but Mel needed him more.

& & & & & &

Carter took the reports of the men who returned to the squadroom. They were shocked to learn about William Rorer falling victim to the killer, though one suggested that there was a gang of murderers who were taking Halloween a little too literally with the movie monster costumes. The agents clamored to go back out, and they added more weapons to their arsenal, grabbing more rifles and revolvers.

“C’mon, Harold, we’re going out again,” Carter said, grabbing the other agent’s lapel, but Reinecke wrenched away.

“No!” Reinecke ran down the hall and disappeared into the interrogation room, locking the door behind him.

Disgusted, Carter tried to open the door. Pounding on it, he yelled, “Come out, Rienecke!” Finally he gave up and went to catch up with his men.

& & & & & &

“Come out!” Mel demanded again.

The shadow wavered, then the newcomer appeared around the corner.

“Johnny!”

Johnny grinned. “How are ya, Sunshine?”

Mel threw his arms around his lover and hugged tightly, Johnny hugging back. His hand stroked up-and-down the Southerner’s back.

Mel broke away, fear in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you were awful worried, darlin’, because I could hear it in your voice. Your pretty secretary told me what was goin’ on.” At Mel’s confused look, he explained, “I met her in the café across the street.”

“Then you know there’s a deranged killer on the loose.”

“All the more reason I want to help.”

“But, Johnny, this place is crawling with agents and police! You can’t stay.”

“I’ll be careful.” Johnny adjusted his dark-blue greatcoat. “I’m not lettin’ you roam around here with a crazy killer, especially alone. Where’s the other agents?”

“Checking the other floors."

“In pairs, I bet.” At Mel’s nod, Johnny said, “So now you’ve got a partner, too.” 

Mel was deathly afraid for Johnny but he wanted him here, too. He always felt better when Johnny was by his side.

“Be extremely careful.”

Johnny grinned his usual insouciant grin. “Always, darlin’, always.”

Mel smiled, feeling a little better. “We need to check the offices on this floor.”

Johnny nodded, brandishing his tommygun as they moved down the hall.

Mel frowned as he heard voices. He and Johnny cautiously entered the office of _Brennan, Goldstein And Anderson, Attorneys-At-Law._

_“Authorities are puzzled by the discovery of a crater in the North Woods of Cook County. Professor Max Brankowitz of M.I.T. has speculated that the mild earthquake felt last week in the area was in reality a meteor or some other object from space impacting the earth and creating the crater.”_

Mel shut off the radio on the counter, he and Johnny checking the inner office, but no one was there.

“Someone must have lit out and forgot to turn the radio off,” Johnny said.

“Very odd,” Mel said. “About craters and earthquakes, I mean.”

“Sounds like Flash Gordon or somethin’.”

“It truly does. Oh, well, we have enough to worry about here on Earth instead of Ming the Merciless.”

Johnny laughed. “C’mon, Dale Arden, let’s check the next office.” 

They concluded their sweep of the floor and took the elevator to the next one, neither man eager to use the stairs. 

Mel suddenly stopped, Johnny looking at him in concern as they stepped off the elevator. “What is it, honey?” he whispered.

“Can’t you smell that?”

Johnny sniffed and his eyes widened. “What is _that?”_

“The smell of the grave,” Mel said grimly.

Johnny gripped his gun tighter. He and Mel walked shoulder-to-shoulder down the hall. 

Mel glanced at his companion. Johnny had spoken to him about the men he had known in prison, some of them mad dog killers of the worst kind, but this sort of viciousness was something that was probably even beyond Johnny’s ken.

He could barely imagine what was going on in this killer’s mind. He could not fathom it, the savagery and sheer evil of the murders. What was the motivation?

His instincts were screaming at him to flee, but he was an officer of the law. This killer had to be stopped.

_And Johnny’s here because of love. I have found a rare gem._

The stench grew stronger as they both heard a shuffling sound. A shadow lengthened on the wall and Mel grabbed Johnny’s hand.

The owner of the footsteps appeared, a low growl sounding in its throat held together with two bolts in its neck, its stitched-together body parts grotesque as its heavy boots dragged along the floor. Dead, baleful eyes zeroed in on Mel and Johnny, its steps speeding up.

Both men raised their guns and the rat-tat-tat of Johnny’s tommygun was drowned out by the roar of the monster, Mel’s revolver bullets unable to make a dent. The creature yanked the tommygun out of Johnny’s hand and Mel’s blood ran cold as he yelled, “Run!”

Johnny had no objections to this order, the two of them dashing madly toward the stairwell. Yanking open the door, they clattered down the stairs just as the building shook with a massive tremor.

Mel yelped as he started to fall. Johnny grabbed him but they lost their balance and tumbled down to the landing. The breath knocked out of them, they tried to recover as they lay stunned. 

“You okay, honey?” Johnny asked.

“Ooh,” Mel groaned. “Was that another earthquake?”

“Who knows? The whole world has sure gone crazy!”

The sound of the door opening on the next level caused them to scramble to their feet as the stench drifted down. Adrenaline pushed them to dash pell-mell down the stairs, helping each other as bruised knees and ankles made themselves known. When they reached the lobby door they rushed out, skidding to a halt with horror on their faces.

The shiny surfaces of the floor and pillars were splattered with blood, streaks of it dripping down the pillars and walls.

“Charlie! Ed!” Mel called, running over to the newsstand, relieved that no mutilated body was behind the counter. He ran over to the lunch counter, his legs shaking as he leaned over to check. 

Empty.

“Your friends okay, honey?”

“Yeah.” Mel pushed away from the counter. “Let’s get out of here.”

They turned and stopped short again. Johnny swallowed. “Um, Mel, it’s still daytime, right?”

“Yes.”

“Why are the windows all black?”

Black streaks mixed with red ran down the windows, blotting out the street. Mel thought he had become numbed to fresh horrors, but he could still be shocked.

They hurried to the doors and Johnny grabbed the right door’s handle, tugging hard. It would not budge. Mel tried the other door but got the same results. They both tried to get the revolving door to move but it was as immovable as granite. Johnny and Mel looked at each other, a growling sound coming from behind the stairwell door.

“The elevators,” Mel hissed.

They raced for the elevators, punching the buttons as the growling turned to moaning, growing louder. Frantic, they pushed more buttons as the heavy tread sounded on the stairs. Blood rushed in their ears as their hearts pounded painfully, terror beginning to wash over them as the stench of the grave combined with glistening blood and bone.

The doorknob began to turn just as the elevator doors opened. Mel and Johnny rushed inside as the stairwell door opened and the monster lurched out into the lobby, roaring as it saw his prey. With terrifying speed he headed straight for them.

“Hit the button!” gasped Mel.

“I am! It won’t close!” Johnny jabbed at the Close button as the Monster roared again, arms outstretched. Mel fished his revolver out of his pocket and fired. The Monster staggered and glared balefully as it lurched forward, Mel still firing as Johnny swore, giving the button one final push as the Monster reached in. It grabbed Johnny’s greatcoat and yanked him forward as the gangster struggled. 

“Johnny!” Mel grabbed him and pulled, part of Johnny’s coat tearing away as the doors closed. The elevator began to rise as the monster roared far below, his rage shaking the car as Mel and Johnny collapsed into each other’s arms.


	6. Bloody, Bloody Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mel and Johnny are trapped.

_Bloody, bloody night_  
_Pulse-pounding fright,_  
_Never give up the fight._

_Streaks of red_  
_Herald the dead_  
_As they bled._

  


**Sergeant Jack O’Reilly**  
**The Fighting 69th**  
**U.S. Army**  
**“Bloody, Bloody Night”**  
**1917 C.E.**

Doris grabbed Carter’s arm as confused agents and policemen milled around outside the Bankers Building. “Carter, where’s Charles and Mel?”

“I don’t know.” Carter looked around. “They didn’t get out?”

“No!”

Carter turned back and tried the revolving door but it wouldn’t budge. Neither would the doors flanking the revolving door.

Doris bit her lip. So many of the men had been able to get out when the building had shaken. She had thought it was an earthquake, but only the Bankers Building had trembled.

“Carter?”

He was red-faced from exertion and anxiety. “We can’t get in.”

Doris felt a growing horror as she realized that the men she loved were trapped inside with a maniacal killer.

& & & & & &

Mel and Johnny clung to each tightly, their hearts triphammering. When the elevator doors opened, they stumbled out and ran into the office of _Mellon Investments,_ closing the door behind them. They both tried to catch their breath and wait for their pulses to stop racing.

“Sugar, what’s goin’ on here?” Johnny wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “Why are we seeing refugees from Universal horror movies running around here?”

“I don’t know.” Mel sat down in a chair. He removed his fedora, running a shaking hand over his eyes. Johnny stayed close, well aware of how nerves ate at his Sunshine, and he couldn’t blame him. “It’s definitely a horror movie.”

Johnny rested an arm on the counter, his legs shaky. He had seen a lot of things in his time, but nothing like _this._

“I’m sorry,” Mel said softly. 

“For what?”

“For being glad you’re here.”

Johnny smiled. “It’s okay, Sunshine. I wouldn’t want you in this alone.”

“I should want you safe.” Mel took Johnny’s hand. “I still do.”

“I know.” Johnny brought their joined hands up and brushed his lips over Mel’s fingers. “Same for me.” 

“Not exactly the Halloween you envisioned,” Mel said ruefully.

“Well, there are monsters afoot.”

Mel laughed. He drew Johnny down for a kiss.

“Mmm, you’re still sweeter than candy corn.” Johnny’s eyes sparkled.

Mel stood and they embraced tightly, then Johnny made sure that his lover sat down again. Mel was strong, possessing grit and determination to rival any of the men Johnny knew in the underworld, but there was a fragility to him that brought out all of Johnny’s protective instincts. Mel was like a thoroughbred, high-strung and skittish, and sometimes needed gentle handling. Johnny stroked his shoulder and turned on the radio on the counter. He kept the volume low.

_“Professor Max Brankowitz of M.I.T. claims that an object from space crashed in the North Woods, creating a crater of incredible depth and length. He is not certain if a meteor caused the damage, but reports of metal buried deeply in the crater are causing speculation._

_“In other news, there are strange reports concerning the Bankers Building in downtown Chicago. When we receive more news we will pass it along.”_

Music played and Johnny shut off the radio. “We were talkin’ Flash Gordon. Guess we can add some Buck Rogers, too.”

“Damn, that was one strange report.”

“No kiddin’.”

“It reminds me of H.G. Wells.”

“Huh?”

“H.G. Wells and his science fiction novel, _The War Of The Worlds._ Martian spaceships landed on Earth and began conquering the planet. They arrived in metal cylinders coming down like shooting stars from the sky.”

“Honey, you don’t have a fever, do you?” Johnny asked worriedly. He knew how susceptible Mel was to fevers.

“I’m _not_ crazy. There’s something weird going on and we need some sort of explanation.”

“Crazed murderer isn’t enough explanation for you?”

“Think about it, Johnny. Did those monsters look like cheap costumes?”

“They did look authentic. And that smell…” Johnny shuddered, leaning back against the counter as he folded his arms. 

“Exactly. They all smell alike, and a strange smell of decay at that.”

“We’re being hunted by a gang of decaying monsters?”

“Or one person.”

“One person? The change of costumes would be too time-consuming, and the make-up…”

”What if it was one person, or creature, who knew our Halloween archetypes and is…what was that word I read in that Heinlein story…shape, uh, shape-shifter? That’s it!”

“C’mon, Mel, aliens from outer space? Shape-shifters? That’s Flash Gordon _and_ Buck Rogers.” 

“This whole night’s been crazy. Got any better explanations?”

“Well, this is Halloween, the night when the veil between the worlds is thinnest, right?”

“You mean the supernatural?”

Johnny nodded. “The supernatural is just about as logical as aliens, right?”

Mel smiled. “I guess it _did_ sound crazy.”

“Well, one explanation is as good as another.”

Mel put his fedora back on. “How are we going to get out of here, Johnny? The laws of physics aren’t working. We should get out of here through the lobby doors, yet we can’t.”

“I don’t know…wait!” Johnny grinned hugely. “We call the police.” He picked up the phone. “Damn.” He slammed the phone down. “It’s dead.” 

Footsteps sounded out in the hall.

_God, I hope we’re not next._

& & & & & &

Harold Reinecke felt safe in the interrogation room. He had spent many a satisfying hour here beating up suspects, the best part of the job, in his opinion. He sat by the window and fiddled with his tie. The Wolfman would be caught and he could go home. So what if Rorer got killed and he ran? It was every man for himself against that crazy killer out there.

He froze as he heard heavy footsteps shuffling down the hall. Fear rose up in him as the footsteps came closer. He jumped and grabbed a chair, shoving it against the door. 

Whatever was on the other side pounded on the wood, loud growling chilling Rienecke’s blood. He shoved the table up against the door next, frantic as he realized that he was trapped. He backed away just as a fist smashed through the door, wood splintering as the Monster shuffled in. Reinecke screamed.

& & & & & &

“Charles!”

Mel and Johnny helped Charles into the office, grateful that it was him and not the Monster or some other thing. He was pale as a ghost and close to collapse, his clothes rumpled and bloodstained. His hat and suit jacket were gone and he carried no weapons. They ushered him to the chair that Mel had vacated.

“Charles, what happened?” Mel swallowed as he saw the blood spattered on Charles’ shirt up close.

“We saw Dracula.”

Mel and Johnny exchanged worried looks. The cowboy sounded dazed.

“Dracula?”

“Yeah, like…like Bela Lugosi.”

“Sounds like his mind’s fogged up,” said Johnny.

“That’s what vampires do.”

Johnny shuddered and Mel couldn’t blame him. Gently the agent asked, “Where’s Doc?” 

“Gone.”

“He’s in shock.” Johnny grabbed a Dixie cup from the dispenser and filled it with water from the water cooler. “Here, drink up.”

Charles obeyed. Mel felt unsettled. Seeing the highly competent Charles Winstead as a shaky, shell-shocked man was difficult.

“We’d better get down to the squadroom. Any agent or policeman left in the building would make their way there.”

Johnny nodded. There was no use hiding. They were all in this together now, G-Man and gangster alike.

“C’mon, Charles,” said Mel, and he and Johnny helped the older man to his feet.

They rode the elevator to the nineteenth floor, apprehensive as the doors opened but the hall was deserted. They cautiously entered the empty squadroom. Mel was disappointed that no one was there and said, “I’ll go check down the hall.” Johnny nodded and helped Charles into his desk chair. 

Mel started down the hall, nearly falling as he slipped on something wet. He groped for the light switch and turned it on, gasping as he saw the pool of blood seeping down the hall. He looked up and saw the splintered door and smelled decay.

“Johnny, take Charles and run!”

He turned just as Frankenstein’s Monster appeared in the doorway gnawing on a long bone that he tossed over his shoulder. Roaring with anger, the Monster lurched forward as Mel ran, slipping on the blood. He fell to his knees and desperately started to rise when an inhumanly-strong hand grabbed his right arm and pulled, flesh tearing from bone as Mel screamed.


	7. The Smell Of The Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monster continues its murderous hunt.

_The smell of the grave_  
_Is damp and dark,_  
_As despair settles_  
_O’er like a shroud._

  


**Elvira Ellison**  
**“Halloween’s Whispers”**  
**1986 C.E.**

Pain roared through him as Mel screamed again, a red film lowering over his eyes like a theater curtain. Like a wounded animal he fought on instinct, the throbbing pain enveloping his entire body. The pain was primeval, filling him with its relentless fiery needles, but a flicker of thought was centered on Johnny as he hoped that he could get away.

The smell of the grave pushed him down as he fell, fell, fell away…

& & & & & &

“Johnny, take Charles and run!”

Johnny heard Mel’s warning and said urgently to Charles, “Take off, cowboy!” Charles was still dazed but he obeyed the gangster’s command and ran out into the hall. Johnny grabbed a rifle out of the cabinet just as a terrible roar spilled out of the hallway, followed by Mel’s agonized scream. Heart pounding, he dashed into the hall.

What he saw was seared into his brain: Frankenstein’s Monster had grabbed hold of Mel, blood spurting from his ruined shoulder as the Monster methodically pulled, separating flesh from bone.

Terrified, Johnny raised the rifle and fired, hitting the Monster in the chest. Howling in rage, the creature threw Mel at Johnny. The gangster grabbed his lover and pulled him by his good arm. Johnny cried out as sharp nails nicked his left eye and cheek and grazed his side, drawing blood. He and Mel staggered, the agent’s eyes pain-glazed as the Monster shuffled after them.

“Hurry, darlin’. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Panic fueled Johnny as he pushed Mel through the squadroom and out into the hall, the smell of decay and death turning his stomach. Charles was holding the elevator doors open and Johnny nearly sobbed as he pushed Mel inside, the Monster howling as it moved inexorably toward them. Johnny wrapped his arms around Mel as Charles hit the button to close the doors, a gnarled hand inches from getting caught.

Johnny held onto Mel tightly, Charles standing like a statue at the control panel while they descended. His eye watered as it stung, blood running down his cheek and side. The elevator reached the bottom, the doors opening out into the basement. They staggered out into the darkness, finding a half-empty storeroom. Charles locked the door behind them as he switched on the lone lightbulb.

Johnny helped lower Mel to the floor, propping him against the wall. He felt sick as he saw the blood soaking Mel’s jacket and shirt. He stroked Mel’s sheet-white face as the agent whimpered.

“It’s okay, Sunshine, it’s okay.” Johnny fumbled for his handkerchief and he tied it around Mel’s shoulder. Mel sobbed in pain, Johnny apologizing over and over as he felt the fear tie his guts in knots. “I’m sorry, darlin’, I know it hurts.” He tried to ignore his own pain in his side.

Mel looked up at Johnny with pain-glazed eyes. “Johnny?”

“Yes, darlin.” Johnny caressed his cheek with a shaking hand.

“The…the Monster…”

“We’ll get out of here. I won’t let it hurt you anymore.”

“It hurts,” Mel moaned.

“I know.” Johnny kissed his lover’s temple, stroking his hair as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart.” Mel gasped softly. “What is it?”

“Your face!”

Johnny put a hand to his face and it came away sticky with blood. His eye was filling with blood, too.

Mel further pointed a shaking finger to Johnny’s shirt, which was soaked in blood. Part of his greatcoat had been torn away, leaving jagged edges.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Charles asked with a slight tremor to his voice.

“Dunno.” Johnny tried to tamp down his worry about Mel’s blood loss and the burning pain in his own face and side. “Mel thinks we’ve been invaded by aliens from outer space and I guessed supernatural forces since it’s Halloween. Whatever it is, we’re in…” He looked up as he heard a rifle bolt being pulled back. “Charles?”

“The fog’s lifted, Johnny-boy.” Charles’ eyes were like blue steel. “Whatever spell that thing cast on me, it’s gone now.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go kill me a monster.”

Johnny stood and grabbed Charles’ arm. “You can’t go up against that thing alone! I’ll go with you.”

“You stay with your man. That thing killed Jerry and Doc. I plan to avenge ‘em.”

“You need a chance…”

“I can get some explosives from the squadroom. I know where the key to the cabinet is.” He set his jaw. “That thing is _not_ gonna kill someone else.” 

“I still think you need help.”

Charles shook his head. “You’re not one hundred percent yourself, Dillinger.” He looked at Mel, who was struggling to stay conscious. “Stay with Mel.” He drew Johnny aside. “He’s real bad off. He needs tendin’, and if…well, you wouldn’t want him to die in this dirty storeroom all alone, would ya?” At Johnny’s stricken look, Charles squeezed his shoulder. “That stringbean’s a lot stronger than he looks. Take good care of him. He loves you somethin’ fierce.” He took a deep breath. “Tell Doris I love her.” Johnny nodded, distress in his amber eyes. 

Charles unlocked the door and went out into the darkness.

& & & & & &

Doris stood silently with Carter and the other agents and police. Construction workers were attempting to open the front door with acetylene torches. So far they were having no luck. The blackened windows hid horrible secrets.

Crowds of curious citizens had gathered, some in costume on their way to parties. Doris slipped her hand into Carter’s and gripped it hard. He squeezed back. Clouds blotted out the moonlight, a cold wind sweeping down from Lake Michigan. She grabbed her skirt to keep it from flying up. Only the murmur of radio reporters could be heard in the silence, the street blocked off so no cars went by.

Doris felt a heavy foreboding as the wind blew stronger and the windows began to weep blood.

& & & & & &

Charles was in full hunter mode. He had stopped by the squadroom and picked up his weapons and now was hunting a monster. His blood was running cold as his gaze was steely-eyed. He no longer knew fear. He was a Hunter and nothing would stop him from getting his prey now.

& & & & & &

“Johnny…Charles…” Mel clutched Johnny’s shirt, his body trembling. His skin was cold to the touch.

“Charles is doin’ what he’s gotta do, darlin’.” Johnny put his greatcoat around the two of them. They had no way out unless Charles did what he intended to do. Maybe if he was successful, they could get out of here. Somehow that monster was the reason they couldn’t get out through the lobby doors. He was sure of it.

_If anyone can kill that monster, it’s that crazy Texan._

Here was their last stand. If the Monster found them, Johnny would fire his revolver but if that did not stop him, he would use the gun on Mel and then himself before he would allow either of them to suffer the kind of pain that Mel had already endured. He tightened his grip a little harder as Mel shook in his embrace. Johnny kissed his lover’s temple

“I love you,” he said softly.

Mel sighed. “I love you, too.”

“I’m glad I came.”

“I know.”

They were quiet for several minutes, then Johnny said, “Do you believe in Fate?”

“Maybe, though I’d like to…think free will…has a hand in our lives.”

“Maybe it does. Or maybe we’re on a path from the day we’re born.”

“My, so…philosophical, Mr. Dillinger.”

Johnny felt a pleasant shiver go down his spine as honeyed Southern tones delighted him. He had always been affected the way since Mel had said his name since their first meeting in the Tucson jail.

“You rub off on me, Sunshine. In more ways than one,” he smirked, trying to keep his own panic down.

Mel chuckled weakly. He shuddered as his fingers gripped Johnny’s shirt, trying to rid out the pain. Johnny kissed his cheek, trying desperately to hold Mel to this world.

“Johnny?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s cold.”

“I know, Sunshine.” Johnny rubbed his back. “Soon we’ll be warm and safe. That cowboy of yours is gonna see to that.”

Mel’s voice was faint as he said, “Jerry…was killed. Charles knew him…a long time…”

“Stay with me, Mel. Stay with me!” Johnny pleaded.

Mel’s head lolled against Johnny’s shoulder. “The thing came from outer space…” He chuckled softly, ending in a sob. “It hurts so much…Johnny.”

“I know, honey, I know.” Johnny was heartsick as he saw the fresh blood growing dark on Mel’s shoulder and running down his arm. Tourniquet or not, his Mel was losing too much blood too rapidly. He thought of Charles’ words about Mel dying alone in this place and wanted to scream to an uncaring Universe to save his Sunshine. 

_Why is this happening? Why did so many good people have to die tonight?_

But of course, he never got an answer. Maybe it was just as well. If the answer was that the Universe just didn’t give a flying fuck, it kind of made everything pointless, didn’t it? Better to believe that someone up there cared, even if only a little, because Mel mattered, damnit! That he knew, deep in his soul. 

“Don’t leave me, darlin’!” he begged.

Mel looked up with clouded eyes, but his mouth curved into a smile. “Not until my last breath,” he said in a whisper, and Johnny sobbed as he carefully hugged his Sunshine.

& & & & & &

Charles could smell it. It was close by, waiting for its next victim.

_Well, there ain’t gonna **be** a next victim._

He caressed his shotgun. He had a tommygun, revolver, and the goodies that he had taken from the squadroom, carried in a bag slung over his shoulder like an avenging Santa Claus. His World War I ordnance training was going to come in handy.

He smiled as he rounded the corner and saw the Monster. He lifted the shotgun and fired.

& & & & & &

Outside, Doris wrapped her hands around a cup of hot coffee. She was not fond of the circus atmosphere with vendors showing up, but coffee was welcome right now.

She nearly dropped the cup as an inhuman howl pierced the night air. Everyone stared at the Bankers Building as blood seeped down the façade, the windows weeping. 

Everyone held their breath, sensing the end, one way or another. Doris closed her eyes and prayed as Carter put his arm around her shoulders.

& & & & & &

Johnny held on tightly to Mel, not caring that blood was soaking into his clothes. His blood mingled with Mel’s, and he was glad that they were together. Mel clung to him, his breathing ragged.

Johnny heard the howl as it shook the building, and hope flared in his heart. He projected his willpower upstairs, wishing that he could help the cowboy, but he would never leave his Mel. No matter what happened, they would face it together.

& & & & & &

Charles emptied the shotgun, then picked up the tommygun and let the bullets fly. The Monster roared as it staggered, but it still kept coming. Charles put in another clip and it still kept coming. He grabbed the grenades from the bag and released the pin on the first one, throwing it with unerring accuracy at the Monster’s chest.

With a howl, the Monster lurched forward and Charles attacked again, yelling as he made his last stand.

& & & & & &

The explosion rocked the Bankers Building, the windows on the top floor shattering. The glass rained down on the street below as the crowds ran.

The shards glittered ruby-tipped in the moonlight.


	8. Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doris reflects on the past and hopes for the future.

_And when the star_  
_Breaks from the sky,_  
_Falling, falling,_  
_It lands, gently_  
_With dust and fire_  
_Shooting star._

  


**Allison Wells**  
**“Shooting Star”**  
**1906 C.E.**

**October 30, 1938**

Doris walked into the Bankers Building. The bustle of the morning was just like any day, and Doris could almost forget what had happened four years ago.

Almost.

She rode the elevator up to the nineteenth floor. When she had returned from Charles’ funeral in Texas, she had spent the next month at home. All the people who worked in the Bankers Building had to wait as it was scrubbed down after the bodies had been removed by the police. 

Charles had been found on the top floor with the remains of the killer. Rumors whispered that it had been a giant tentacled creature, while others claimed it been much smaller, and still others had whispered that it was the remains of Frankenstein’s Monster, but there was no official word. While the businessmen had been willing to pool their resources to clean the building, the Government had swept in and taken over, shutting off all information, but Doris had her contacts after years in the business.

Half-a-dozen people quit their jobs, but with jobs so dear in Depression America, the rest stayed, even though some swore that the building was haunted. Wild rumors and speculation abounded about an alien invasion. Somehow back in 1934 word had gotten out about the crater in the North Woods. Professor Brankowitz apparently had not gotten the word about keeping quiet.

Doris disembarked from the elevator and headed for the door marked _Federal Bureau Of Investigation (Chicago Office)._ There was no longer a need for the Dillinger Squad.

Doris smiled at Carter as he went to her desk. She had letters to type for her boss Sam Cowley. She sat down and began typing.

Mel had never been found, though Sam had said that there had not even been enough left for dental identification from the bones left after the murder spree. The missing agents were declared dead, Mel among them. Charles had been one of the lucky ones, a recognizable body still in one piece.

John Dillinger had disappeared that Halloween night, though some people insisted that he robbed banks in the following months though others claimed it couldn’t be Dillinger, because the man had both an eye patch and a scar. His gang had melted away, though underworld rumors swore that he had been seen with his gang in other states, and a few further swore that he was accompanied by a tall, thin man with large brown eyes, one witness even claiming that the man had only one arm while the gangster wore an eye patch and his handsome face sported a scar on his left cheek.

Doris looked at her Jack O’Lantern, reflecting on all the stories that swirled around that odd Halloween night four years ago. Aliens were just as likely as monsters from behind the veil separating the living from the dead, because no one could say for sure what had happened.

_Isn’t this world scary enough with all the mess in Europe and Asia? People are saying that Europe’s headed for another war when we’ve barely recovered from the last one._

She shivered. Maybe the people who said this place was haunted were right. The office was draftier than it used to be.

_Guess it’s the romantic in me, but I like to think that Mel and Johnny got away and are happy together somewhere._

When Sam, Clarence, and Hugh had come back on the morning after Halloween four years ago, they had found a ruined Bankers building and a decimated Dillinger Squad…

& & & & & &

**November 1, 1934**  


_The day after Halloween always was a bit of a let-down, the Jack O’Lanterns a bit soft and the ghost and Witch decorations a little forlorn._

_The agents who had gone to East Chicago were shocked when they returned, Sam talking to Patrick as Doris and Carter tried to explain what had happened._

_“What’s going on here?”_

_They all turned to see J. Edgar Hoover standing there, his bellow echoing out over the quiet street. The police still had it blocked off, but Hoover had easily gotten through the barricades._

_They had tried to explain but Hoover yelled, “You’re all crazy! Where’s my men? Where’s Melvin?”_

_The doors were easily opened this morning and Hoover stalked in. When he had come out an hour later, he was sheet-white and declared that he was going back to Washington._

& & & & & &

**The Present**  


Carter smiled as he handed Doris a cup of coffee. She took it and said, “Thanks, dear.”

“We still on for tomorrow night?”

“You bet.”

“Can’t wait to see your costume.”

“You’re going to like it.”

Carter smiled as he returned to his desk.

Doris was glad for a masquerade ball to distract her tomorrow night. Halloween was always a tough night to get through after…well, she was going to enjoy hot beef stew tonight while listening to _Mercury Theatre_ and put the finishing touches on her costume. It was one of her favorite programs since Orson Welles had taken over the show, producing, writing and acting every week.

_Tonight, a quiet evening at home. Tomorrow, Halloween._

& & & & & &

**Later That Night**  


It was cold and clear the night before Halloween. Stars twinkled in the sky and one broke away, falling to Earth with a bright blazing light. The earth shook and dust and smoke rose up to blot out the stars, slowly dissipating as a red glow emanated from the deep crater in the North Woods.

Deep in the crater, a cylindrical object glowed, then the lid began to turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orson Welles adapted H.G. Wells' _The War Of The Worlds_ and it aired on _Mercury Theatre_ on October 30, 1938, sparking a nation-wide panic as people thought the country was really being invaded. Jitters over the situation in Europe contributed to the paranoia. It was all just a radio show...wasn't it? ;)


End file.
